The Specimen
by Tewanna
Summary: Just a bunch of cute Wind Waker short stories with only good fluffly feelings!
1. The Specimen

Ok, so this might seem like a one-shot. As a matter of fact, it just might be... Maybe.

Or is it?

I dunnow.

*8*

 **The specimen**

Blue eyes.

That was all he could think about.

He'd seen in in young teenage girls before. It wasn't that rare. But this girl… Man, she was a specimen.

How was it that she had found her way into this crowded bar full of filthy, mentally ill scum of the earth… How it didn't even seem to faze her, like she'd lived her whole life in places like these, surrounded by noisy drunk pirates… How she even managed to blend in and inspire to those who talked to her enough respect to leave her alone… That, he would never know. But he was obligated at the very least to pay an homage to the goddesses for letting him cross the path of such a rare creature for she had the most beautiful, carefully shaped deep blue eyes he'd ever seen before.

And they were worth a fortune.

He was a businessman, soaked in this big, wide, cruel world that people called piracy. The things he sold, well. He couldn't spread the word as far and wide as he'd want, for it wasn't exactly what you would call legal. All you needed to know is that this kind of rare beauty, this kind of delicacy, was his job to look for. It didn't matter where he found clients, or how he found clients. People… Have horrible sides to them. And especially in piracy, that meant business. That meant rubies. And that means very little competition. And, for somebody who'd been in the game for so long, well. Heh.

That girl had something worth way more than a few silver rubies.

He didn't even know her name. He didn't even know if she were precious to anyone. All he knew was that it was her mistake for stumbling into such a dangerous place unguarded. He'd already been carefully watching her for a while since she arrived – I mean, she had presence, you know. There was something royal about the way she hold herself, and you knew when she walked passed just by the aura she declared around her. But she were still merely a teenager. Maybe 13 years old. Maybe 14. And, well… Sadly, that was the merchandise he sold. And he'd already decided he would sell her. And getting close enough to reach her was what he'd been working on for the past few minutes.

How easy it was.

He'd kidnapped people before. He'd kidnapped women, children. It didn't even matter how much they kicked and screamed. He knew how to calm them down. He'd kidnapped every type. The crying type. The yelling type. The frightened type. He'd seen them all. He's kidnapped men, even. Men his own size. Strong men. He knew how it worked. He'd done it before. And he'd been doing this job for years. It was all the same: people were like animals. It was all the same as hunting: carefully choosing your prey. Observing it. Studying how it moves, how it breaths, how it lives. What it is doing, where it plans to go next. Predicting. Knowing. But you had to choose it, first. The prey had to have something special to it. Something others didn't have – that's what brought the price up. The rarer the specimen, the better the reward.

And this girl, with her golden hair, her pointy ears, her tender brown skin and her amazing, deep blue eyes, he thought with a hungry grin, was worth a million.

Now he knew it wasn't always easy, and he knew just by looking at her that she was the type that wasn't afraid, the kind of difficult prey that still manage by some miracle to think straight even though their life was in danger. The kind that had seen it before. The kind that was hard to catch off guard, like an attentive eagle.

And yet this. This, was perfect. Busy, her whole body turned in the perfectly opposite direction from the one he was coming from, was perfect. The density of the crowd, the agitation, the dancing light of the torches, the cozy atmosphere… Every detail was in perfect harmony, hiding him, making place for this unique occasion to capture such a rare, beautiful specimen.

He was about four or five meters away from her by now. Soon, he would have to make sure she'd be quiet. It was a bet, but it was doable. Experience was the key to this sort of rare occasion, and he could already taste the excitement of hunting such a valuable target with his sharpened by the years skill. Yet suddenly, a weird, eerie feeling crept through his bones. He felt a big heaviness tensing the atmosphere around him and closing in, stripping him from his pleasurable sense of being a hunter. His feeling of being a predator washed away as a terrified, instinctive fright replaced it as if he were slowly turning into the prey, into the one being watched. It was then that a single light pressure to his wrist told him something had delicately caught his sleeve, building up tension as he gradually turned around to see what was causing such a change in the atmosphere.

"Excuse me sir!" Said out of nowhere the excited voice of a blond young man dressed in a strange, unfamiliar green tunic. "Excuuuuuse me!"

It… Was just a little boy. No, wait… He… wasn't that young. Probably the same age as the girl who had the blue eyes, probably? The heavy tension cloud that had been looming over him for the last few seconds had all of a sudden been lifted, leaving him with this strangely dressed child eying him with concerned curiosity as he realized his speaker looked frightened.

"Are you all right, sir?" He said worryingly to the adult, afraid he had done something wrong by addressing him.

"Yes… Yes, of course, I'm sorry." The pirate responded, trying to display a friendly behavior despite keeping an attentive eye on his prey. The girl hadn't moved, even though she had oh so very lightly stiffened, as if being suddenly aware of something. But it was so slight he was practically sure it was simply another fragment of his imagination since there was still quite the distance between them.

"I'm sorry, my boy… I thought you were… Someone else. Can you give me a minute?" He asked as he finally replaced where he'd seen the young boy's typically green cloths before – they were the ones traditionally given to young males when then came to age on Outset Island – if his memory wasn't failing him quite yet. "I'm a little busy, right now.

\- Oh… I'm Sorry…" answered his disappointed, kind voice. "I didn't mean to bother you, sir... "

The old man turned back to his objective in hopes the lost young boy would understand this wasn't a good time, would thereby have learned their lesson and left him to his work already. But the grip the boy had on his wrist didn't get any lighter. As a matter of fact, it seemed to tightened.

"Though…" Continued the boy's voice as it got deeper, like he didn't want to let the man go before he'd finished his sentence.

It didn't matter anymore whether or not he was actually interested in what the kid was saying: his attention was getting pulled back by the surprising strength with which he was now damaging his arm. In a last, exasperated hope of getting the child to leave him, the pirate turned around to shoo him away but couldn't seem to get any further with that plan other than simply turning towards him as he was froze in place by his expression.

And it wasn't anything close to any of the children's he'd ever met before. The heaviness. The tension. The feeling of being watched. It all suddenly came back as the small, little human calmly stared at him. A cold, polite smile was decorating his lips as he continued his thought.

"If you touch her, you'll wake up one morning with a sword through your throat."

If he'd ever been capable of telling when someone wasn't kidding, this was it. He'd never seen such a simple, confident threat on a child's traits before. As if this small, adorable boy could read his every thought and was just kindly reminding him that he was stepping over an invisible boundary. And just with the help of a mere glance into his eyes, he knew this little man could kill him. The aching cold that run through his spine warned him it was no joke. If he ever did so much as to come close to the young girl with these kind of thoughts in mind, he would die by the hand of this smiling child.

Then, unexpectedly, the boy started to laugh. A childish, innocent laugh of a kid who'd just managed to pull off the biggest prank of his life.

"If you could see your face, sir!" He loudly giggled, attracting the attention of every person standing in a one meter radius, foiling every chance he had of pursuing his first intentions. "Man, I really managed to scare you, didn't I? I've been practicing my pirate glare for a while now! So how was it? Was I scary? Were you scared?"

His endearing expression close to what you'd expect of an excited little puppy managed to soften every adult who happened to watch the scene, which you could tell by a general "Awwwww!" coming from every direction in the room, even from some of the drunk old men you would have previously thought were knocked out by the root beer. The old pirate now knew there wasn't a chance in Nayru he could kidnap the girl without immediately being caught before he could even get to her. Yet, in a lingering remain of his hunting instinct, he turned around one last time to see what he had once hoped to capture that day.

But she was gone.

He'd only peeled his eyes away from her for a mere second and the girl had already found a way to disappear into the crowd like a gust of wind that you couldn't even tell had really existed.

That somehow made him laugh.

Din all mighty, he'd been right. That girl… She was quite a catch. A very rare specimen for sure, worth even more than he'd already thought. Man, what a shame. He would have made a fortune.

Unfortunately, he'd made one mistake upon trying to capture such a noble prey.

She hadn't come unguarded.


	2. The Beating

Oh, look.

Another one-shot.

*8*

 **The Beating**

"… I don't believe you.

\- I swear I saw it with my own two eyes!" Pressed the drunk old pirate by hitting the table with his nearly-emptied drink, as if convincing his audience with his story was a matter of life or death. "These pirates I tell you…! So small, like babies! And yet… The strongest, toughest bunch I've ever seen! Their captain… SO pretty! And yet so small… But she'd kill you in an **instant**!"

His speaker laughed once more.

"Yea, right!" He mocked, "So, like, your captain – mister mountain-crusher over there, was beaten down by a couple of little kids?"

The unhealthy looking story-teller nodded with all his conviction, relieved to see his tale was being well transmitted.

"Yea, right." Was all he heard in response for the second time.

But even though the man was very hardly convinced, he couldn't help being curious about this whole story – after all, the monster that served as their captain was presently trying to drown some sort of shame into an unhealthy amount of alcohol. And, well, he looked pretty tough. He had made quite a name for himself as a strong, cruel leader.

And everybody loved gossip.

"Alright," he admitted with a roll of his eyes, "go ahead, tell us your story. Start from the beginning."

Finally, the drunk pirate had a proper audience. Finishing his bucket of beer with a single, brave gulp, he established it back on the table and began reciting the events.

"So my name is Andrew Sandsworth, right?

And I'm in it for the kicks I get from watching pirates walk all over this boring world.

I, myself, ain't really anything worth talking about. I mean look at me: short, thin like a toothpick, and weaker than one, too: I'm useless. I'm weak, poor in combat and in pretty much anything else than hiding in the shadows of my superiors. I was never meant for this. I'm not a pirate. So, yea. I guess I kinda suck at my job.

Wellllllllllll, I meaaaaaaan… Yes, technically speaking, I answer every specification you could possibly request to be labelled as a pirate. I mean, I'm part of a crew, and I follow the man in head of said crew. We rob. We steal. We get drunk. We wreck. We're outlawed.

So, yea. We're pirates.

I never wanted to be one, though. But then again, I never got to choose. I had a job before, you know... I started off as part of an explorer's crew in my younger days, and then it happened. It's never a choice. It always comes down to one thing: how far are you ready to go and how badly are you ready to live to stay alive? I guess you could argue that, at the very least, sharing the same fate as the previous man who was unlucky enough to lead your ship is still optional. But that's how I made it in this wretched world. Like a stray dog changing owner every time a stronger one comes by and strips your previous life apart. Again, and again, and again, and again. Because I'm weak. Because I'm the kind of people that happens to be a collateral damage left after the real pirates come through. So, no. I won't be talking about me.

On the other hand, what I saw, you wouldn't believe.

So, we all love beatings, right?

I mean, see, when you've been in my place for as long as I have, you get bored. You contemplate your life every now and then, maybe regret this and that. And if there's one thing that's worth looking forward to by then, well… It's violence. It's watching other pirates getting their butts kicked. And I'm not talking about a "true" fight, the stuff dipped in honor, with me, raddling a sword with these poor arms of mine – sheesh!

No, I'm talking about sitting down and watching your captain, your crew, disseminate a group that has the misery to be that much weaker than you. Once that's done, you pick up the last people alive and you make them obey you, you make them part of your own crew. That's just the way it is. There isn't always a reason, sometimes it's simply out of pure bloodthirst. And in this? Well, I am merely an observer. Appreciating in what is perhaps a perverted way the sight of other people suffer what I myself have been through. Now I know it might be considered unhealthy, but man isn't there anything worth watching your captain, your **owner** , beat down to submission someone else's crew. It kind of makes you want to reconsider your situation under a new light, you know? Besides, this particular beating promised to be good.

I don't know if you remember about the scandal that went about a while back. You know, with my captain being pissed because a whole chunk of his treasure went missing? Yea, that story. Well, we found the guys who'd did it.

I mean, we were a little disappointed when we saw their ship. Small. Simple. Nothing much as far as pirate ships go, anyway. Not really impressive. Yet we'd been followings leads for weeks, trying to find this stupid boat again. Our captain had been going out of his mind trying to hunt down the fools who'd managed by some miracle to trick him into losing months' worth of stealing and pirating. But he'd found them. And, well, he was mad. So all we knew is that it would be a fun beating, you know?

And as for my captain? Nah, he isn't really a man of wits. Not that smart. Not that clever. But he's built for this life, that's for sure. He's strong, tall, has a tough-looking beard and hands the size of someone's head. Imposing, especially when you happened to be smaller than him – which was the case for a reasonable chunk of the population, I might add. And the people he were looking for? Man, they didn't stand a ghost of a chance. I almost felt bad for them when we embarked on their ship.

But then again, emphasize on "almost".

So anyway, there we were. We'd managed to embark on that so called "ship" of theirs, ready to tear into shreds whoever we found in our way. But then, it was weird.

Because nobody came to welcome us.

There was just this small, tiny-looking pirate that really didn't say much. He had this bandanna around his head, and looked like the kind of guy who has an obsession with spyglasses, you know? 'Cause, well… He was looking at us through a spyglass.

… And we were only a few feet away from him.

Eventually, the guy reacted to our presence and silently waved at us so we would follow him, and then proceeded towards the insides of the ship. Still looking through his spyglass.

And I mean, we did. We wanted to see the face of their captain, you know? We wanted a good, true beating with lots of victims involved or it'd be boring. When he got to the door though, he stepped aside so we could get in. But my cap'n, he loves drama. Scaring people. Making unnecessary efforts to make things dramatic… So, he kicked the door open with all his strength – and of course, it was ripped clean off. And in the room, you could see they'd all gathered as if they were getting ready to have a friendly conversation. A bunch of them! Three tall, tough looking guys. Two others, much weaker looking, about the size of the one who'd greeted us with his spyglass.

… And then there was these two odd looking birds.

A boy with a really questionable sense of fashion, dressed in a green tunic and a floppy hat like he was making fun of the guy, what's-his-name… The Hero of Time or something. Same color of hair, too. And he really looked like a kid, even though he probably was, like… 13 years old? 14? 'Cause he looked all happy and innocent, swinging his feet off the barrel he was sitting on like that. Like he'd been promised a lollipop if he behaved.

And he contrasted a **lot** with his captain. But first of all… Man, that girl…? She was just a kid! Just like him! Same height, pointy ears like him like they were related or something. But she wasn't nearly as innocent-looking as her underling. Very… I don't know how to put it. She just immediately inspired respect, you know? Like she was made to rule, like she had royal blood. Much more serious than the boy, and very pretty, too. She had these almond-shaped eyes that were deep, deep blue and this golden hair, and she just… She was special. You could tell by looking at her.

And she was totally impossible to impress. I mean the door had been kicked down, and all she said was "Who is it?" like we'd just rung a doorbell.

"There you are, you dirty little thief!" The voice of my captain roared across the room as he saw the small figure. "Did you honestly believe a stupid kid like you could get away with this? How dare you steal from us, do you even know who I am?"

I, myself, would have been terrified just by the loud raddling of his voice and couldn't wait to see her scared reaction, or any sort of emotion if she could afford any. But the girl wasn't frightened though, as if, strangely, she'd been through something similar a thousand times. She didn't even flinch or show any other visible signs that she had acknowledged in any way that a huge enraged man had just barged into her quarters.

Eventually, she simply lifted her piercing blue eyes to stare at him like she were bored out of her mind. "Well, so far you're the guy who kicked down my door," she noticed, unimpressed.

Now that kind of tone, my captain didn't appreciate.

"Don't get sassy with me, kid" he barked. "I've seen the likes of you before! You just think you're so smart, huh? Getting away with stealing half of my gold like it were free samples? You have no idea what I can do to you. I will destroy this stupid little ship. I will kill every living soul that has lived on it, and you will **beg** for me to take back my gold and spare your life."

But then again, the young woman just stared at him with this annoyingly uninterested look. "Frightening." She declared as if feeling the need to inform the surrounding audience that his previous declaration was, against all odds, a threat.

But, so soon into the conversation, my captain only found than amusing. And he wasn't done trying to impress them, either. So he hit his hands on top of the table she was calmly sitting at, rocking on the back legs of her chair. "Oh, you have no idea how frightening, kid. I've followed you up to this point, and I am not letting you go. I know you're the one who did it, so spill it. I mean, unless you've got any great excuse up your sleeve." And then he laughed and crossed his arms. So we laughed to. "Go ahead, kid! Knock my socks off! I've seen them all! Let's see if you can do any better! Tell me your excuse and let's see if I've heard it before!"

With a grin she hid out of politeness, the lady sat back comfortably into her chair, pretending to think as if pressure weren't even a notion in her book.

"Sorry, toots." She simply replied after a false pause, her grin starting to show, "I've never met you before. I have no idea who you are."

I guess my captain hadn't actually ever hear that one before, because it took a moment for him to react.

"So what, are you saying my money just disappeared into thin air?" He yelled, "Is this your idea of a joke? I know it's you, you bastard! You better pay up **now**!

\- My idea of a joke," she replied kindly, "I won't say. Because there are men in this room that respect you. On the other hand, I will say what I've told you already: I have no idea who you are and where you misplaced your belongings is none of my business. So please leave my ship."

My captain first didn't know how to respond to such infamy, but then displayed a sickening grin.

"I don't think you understand, little lady. I think a little example of what awaits you might freshen up your memory."

He then shot a look to the nearby shy little swabby I'd noticed earlier before grabbing him and placing a sharp knife upon his throat.

But somehow, that triggered something. Something not good.

Tetra – for I think that was her name – had until now gone through the conversation with a constant smile, a constant mockery in her behavior that showed how little she thought of her opponent. Yet somehow, this, **this** was unacceptable. She wasn't smiling anymore. Her body had frozen into place, her stare now focused on the blade that was almost in contact with her crewmate's skin.

And she looked downright pissed.

"Oh, did I hit a nerve?"

He laughed. I could tell he was now getting curious about her reaction if he actually went as far as to kill the whining pirate.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Resonated a smooth, calm voice. The collective attention of the room turned towards the young man who'd just spoken, the blond child you could tell was just starting to grow out of childhood. His stance was relaxed, as if he were – ironically, simply a mere observer. Even more than me. His unconcerned attitude continued his though as though simply stating a fact. "You'll regret it."

And that made my captain laugh.

"Oh yea, what're you going to do about it, boy?"

Suddenly realizing his words had been misunderstood, the kid suddenly backed down by lifting an apologetic pair of hands in the air, almost blushing out of shyness. "Me? No, no. I'm not going to do anything. I'm just, you know… Warning you: don't do it."

He then redirected his look towards his captain with a worried expression. But it felt like he wasn't afraid of what would happen to her, rather like he was afraid of what she might do.

And indeed, he weren't wrong.

"Put him the fuck down." Scowled the low, threatening voice of the young woman.

And my captain, well, he didn't make much of it. He roared a new laugh. He thought it was cute, how she tried to look pissed, how she tried to impress him with her weak little stance. But he hadn't realized yet that he was the only one laughing. I couldn't even bare to breath.

She looked way to serious. She was way too silent. She looked way to ready to kill someone out of cold blood. And that frightened the hell out of everyone else.

"What," he continued upon noticing the sudden silence, "are you afraid I might…

\- Put him. The fuck. Down."

A new wave of dead seriousness flowed right through the assistance, making our throats tight and, for the few prudent ones, take a step back.

I'd seen my fair share of leaderships. Captains, I had all sorts – like I told you, I've been traded like an unwanted yet maybe useful collateral damage. But this girl… If only you could see her deep, cold blue eyes. Threatening. Hypnotizing, almost, considering how much the urge to obey was strong. This girl… She was used to being in charge. She was no joke. She'd been a leader for a long time, and she knew how to maintain respect within her peers. You could tell just by being in the same room.

This girl… She was a true captain.

I almost felt mad at my own superior for honoring such a stance with a cruel smile. He'd had enough of her shenanigans. He wasn't ready to take her bluffing skills any further. So he clutched the poor swabby's hair with one hand and got ready to assist him with a sharp, dry cut to the throat when all of sudden, everything happened so fast it was a blur.

In a blink, he wasn't alone in the middle of the room anymore. Tetra, with her cold, icy stare focused on him, was now an inch away with a blade sharp enough to cut off a rock in one slice held up in the air above his arm. But it hadn't sunk into the giant's flesh quite yet, for another pair of hands were lightly holding her away from doing so.

"Tetra, don't." The blond boy spoke while handling her obvious strength with unsettling ease. I couldn't believe how calm he seemed. It was unbelievable. As if he was simply remind this killing machine of a mental note like it was nothing to him. How this kid managed to muster the sense to say **anything** in this situation, I would never know. But he was ignored.

His captain's hand tightened over the knife's handle, weighing even more pressure to strike the blade down so it would force him out of the way.

"… Let go." She hissed dangerously.

"Tetra, calm down." He continued, somehow unaffected by her threat. He didn't move, or do anything else for that matter in order to prevent her intentions any more than he already was. He sounded convinced that his point would eventually sink in. "He was about to let Nico go, anyway."

With impeccable precision, the boy delicately loosened the threatening man's grasp on the swabby while keeping a nice composure over the girl's wrist. And indeed, struggling to catch up with the recent events, my captain didn't oppose any resistance to his kind guiding and left the terrified underling free to run away from what could have killed him.

But the carefully shaped eyes of the girl didn't leave their target for one second. They narrowed. It wasn't enough to her. She wanted him **dead**.

"Tetra." The boy repeated quietly, even though his words held some sort of warning, a reminder of a line she shouldn't cross.

And then another tense silent.

… Until finally… She gave up.

"Fine. Have it your way, mister hero." She sighed, backing off. You could tell the boy was relieved, even though he tried to hide it – I mean he wasn't even a hundred percent sure she'd listen to him. He gave her an understanding smile, loosened his grip on her wrist, discreetly thank the goddesses, and was ready to go back to his spot when she suddenly turned around and gave a very powerful kick to my captain's – that monster's - ankle, somehow forcing him to kneel in front of her. She grabbed his collar in a way that almost suffocated him – again, I have no idea where this strength was coming from, and brought back her knife on his throat, much closer than he'd done it with her underling.

"TETRA!" The boy screamed, scandalized.

"Look here, you stupid pig." She then whispered to my captain, "If you ever, and I mean ever, come close to my crew ever again, I will snap your neck and feed you to the undersea monsters, am I clear?"

And… He nodded.

Now he was probably trying to move, and the movement made it look like he was nodding. Or he was dizzy, and she was shaking him. I dunnow.

In any case, it looked like he nodded. And that was it.

"Get off my ship." She said. And by letting him go, the circumstances meant he was now down on his hands in knees. And even though she's tiny compared to him, she was, at that very moment, looking down on him like she'd just beaten him down into submission.

So in the end, I guess we were the ones who'd taken the beating… In a way. But the difference was, she wasn't going to steal any new recruits. Which was weird, I thought. Because that's how it works: when you defeat another crew, you take what you want. That's just how it is. But this girl…

It looked like she was really picky about who was allowed on her ship."


	3. A Step Practiced a Thousand Times

True story: I was practicing on some K-pop with some friends when I got this idea.

It was a success, by the way. I really kill it on the dance floor.

*8*

 **A Step Practiced a Thousand Times**

Feet slightly apart, hands crossed behind his back in a formal sign of respect, back straight, a brave smile on his face, and, of course, a glow in his eye.

Like a step practiced a thousand times, that was one of the ways you could tell how proud Link was of being at his captain's service. He didn't need to say anything; you could tell. He was more than a simple underling, a small swabby stuck in the lowest rank you could get in a crew. He was her soldier, or at least he perceived himself as such. And nothing made him as proud as being her faithful guardian.

Now, you might say that wasn't all he saw when he looked at her. Truth is, he liked her a little more than any other soldier would. He really cared about her, very deeply. She was not only like family to him, she was one of the closest person he'd ever had the chance to have in his short life. Truth be said, he liked her. Maybe a little more than he should. Maybe in a way he shouldn't really be allowing himself to.

Yet he wished he didn't have to feel that way, for as much as he possibly could, he tried not to make much of it; he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. His biggest priority as far as he was concern was the princess's well being. No matter the odds, no matter the challenge. And even though everyone knew by simply judging his past actions in that regard, it was still a matter of fact. Seeing her safe and sound made him as proud as you could be, and his pride came in many ways.

Have you ever danced? And by that I mean trained for hours on the same song until you got sick of it, until the slightest sound of every beat was carved into your very mind. Where even when you know every move at the tip of your fingers, it isn't enough. When perfect isn't ever close to where you want to be. When talent doesn't even begin to cut it anymore. When all that really matters is practice. Weather you do it alone or with other people, it doesn't matter. It's hard. It's tough. And no matter how much labor it is, if the result isn't there, it isn't worth it. Every move had to be perfect. Everything has to be timed right, so in the end, you can tell just by watching that every step was practiced a thousand times.

And Link… He knew how to dance.

Whenever she'd be in danger, he would stand in front of the sword that was directed to her.

Whenever she would have to fight, he would take her side, no matter if she were right or wrong, drawing his blade to strengthen her defenses.

Whenever she would fall, he would be there to catch her long before she were in any sort of peril.

No matter the hardships, the peril, the danger, the odds, he was, and always will be, her faithful guardian.

And in his own way, it looked like he danced. Every step, every move, he'd practiced in order to make sure she were safe. He'd protect her, and that was an oath. And man, you wouldn't believe what that meant to him.

We were looking for treasure when it happened.

Link and Tetra, they were as happy as usual. Treasure hunting always was their favorite thing. They got to go on an adventure, they got to solve puzzles, they got to bash up monsters – you know, stretching out. The usual. Looking from afar, you would have thought they were just a pair of children playing and having fun if they weren't brutally killing monsters and keeping scores of said kills. These kids, they both really were odd birds.

They were so happy and delighted, nobody could have though anything could go wrong.

But of course, it did.

No one knew who had done it, but someone had misplaced one of his steps and had activated a trap. And traps, we'd seen them everywhere. Spike types, fire types, we'd literally seen them all. So, in itself, it weren't anything to be afraid of. In a split second though, everything had changed. From the cheer and the laughter everything turned dark as the spears fled across the room and towards where our captain stood. And, spears? She'd already seen them before. She knew how to dodge them, of course. But that day, she tripped.

And you might be laughing, thinking about how trivial that sounds. Yes, she tripped. How clumsy, right? But of all times to be clumsy, that specific one would be the one that cost her life.

"LOOK OUT!" Someone yelled in panic. We didn't have enough time to act, and before we could do anything else than stare at her execution, it were already too late.

Everything had gone silent. The shorter time of reaction we had, the longer we would stay frozen, as if it could compensate for the intensity of the moment. And when finally we found ourselves able to catch our breath, we couldn't think of anything to say.

Plic.

Plic.

Tetra waited with her arms over her head for a very, very long time. She was clenched, waiting for the pain. Waiting for her final breath. Waiting for the end. But none of that happened. It just… Didn't. And with slow motion, she gently opened her eyes, only to see the red stain of blood dripping on her cloths.

Plic.

Plic.

It was the only sound breaking the horrified silence. Dripping. Silent and peaceful dripping.

He didn't yell. He didn't scream. The crazy guy didn't even speak. He didn't move, locked into position in case the trap would set of a second time. But when it all remained the same, a sheepish smile broke onto his face.

"Shit, that hurts…!" He laughed, trying to bring down a notch her stress.

"Link…" She could only say, still in shock.

We all ran towards them, asking if they were alright, asking if they were hurt, trying to judge his wound. Needless to say, it was severe. The spear had gone all the way through his shoulder, missing by inches his heart. In a shiver, we all knew what that meant. It wasn't enough seeing our captain fall to the floor when a flock of weapons were heading her way. We had to witness that stupid, crazy hero take the shot. We all thought we'd seen the last of him, and we weren't the only one.

There was a moment of relieved silence as the medic started working on him, breaking off the dangerous piece of wood and healing the masochistic child. Thankfully, it was quick to diagnose that he would live.

We were all relieved. There was moment of silence, and then… It hit her.

That day, Link could have died.

Tetra, she isn't the kind to cry. She's got to keep up a strong impression, you know. She's probably the toughest among the whole bunch of us all combined. No, she really is strong. She knows she can't allow herself any weakness. But that day, we saw her cry.

It wasn't any sudden, loud burst out of emotion. It was silent as the treacherous drops of salty water ran down her face. She was terrified. On that very day, she could have lost her best friend. And it didn't matter how strong she was, or how strong she wanted us to think she was. Something collapsed that day, as she couldn't tear her gaze away from the bleeding wound that would have been in the middle of her chest if it weren't for him. She wasn't strong enough to see him die, not for her sake when she'd done something as stupid and as trivial as tripping. Link… He's her best friend. He's her greatest ally against faith. The one and only who could share the unfair, heavy burden of being "chosen" to carry out the legacy of a whole country. And just in a single, stupid accident, she could have lost him forever. And that single thought was enough to make her cry.

Addressing a reassuring hand to her head, the boy calmly smiled at her with the most familiar of grins. It all sounded so funny to him. Because seeing her safe was all he could hope for, and, honestly, it really was all that mattered to him. It didn't matter the price. It didn't matter how hard, it didn't matter how tough. An even though it pained her, looking at him, she could tell. That peace of mind even though he almost died, like he didn't mind losing his life. That glow in his eye… She knew what it meant.

He was ready for death, like a step practiced a thousand times.


	4. An Empty Shelf With a Single Book

Yes, I know. You don't say something gets "funnier and funnier". Well I'm French and I don't know how to speak English, so there.

 **An empty shelf with a single book**

Have I ever told you why I hate being called by my princess name?

Well, let me tell you then.

When I was a kid, my mother insisted on always reading a story to me before she tucked me into bed. Unfortunately, we didn't have that many books. I suppose at some point in time our long and noble lineage we must have owned a respectable collection, something to be proud of. But living out in the open, running, hiding continuously to bury our family's identity like we did, we ended up with that one, single, dusty old book. So then, every night, we were left reading the same old story, again and again. The one about the princess and the hero.

As the story goes, I'm sure you can guess, you once had this princess who was to one day be the queen of a beautiful land. At her side of course, there was a hero. He was strong. He was brave. Yet he was so young everyone marveled and could not believe the strength of his body and soul, so the tale told.

Do I really need to remind you of the plot? I'm sure you've probably all heard it by now, but of course, the princess got captured by some evil force and, of course, she was eventually saved by the hero. Now, let's not pest too much about the author's lack of creativity - something in their life probably led them to this point, you know? But even as a kid, the ending sounded predictable and flavorless. But then again, it was all about having just this one single book up on an empty shelf.

When I first found out what my heritage entitled me to, that I was, in fact, a "princess", I first thought of some sort of cruel joke. As if life itself were as boring and flavorless. As if life itself were an empty shelf with nothing else to turn to than that one, single, dusty old book.

But, of course, like any cruel joke living up to its name, it just kept getting better and better.

I felt like killing myself with a face palm every time I had to rely on his strength. I felt like knitting my own rope to hang myself with every time he saved me. Because he didn't rescue me just that once - ooooh, no. We had to practice that same old song and dance a good number of times before faith had had their full of this recurring gag. But that's the way it is supposed to be, right? I mean, that's how the story goes. Because every time, the feeling that it had all already been written kept getting stronger and stronger, and every time Link hat to risk his life, the joke just kept getting funnier and funnier.

As you can imagine, I never liked the idea of having to embody a princess, and neither did Link appreciate having to be called a hero. It was as if faith had especially picked us, us specifically, to fit inside a neat little box designed by destiny itself with every detail of our existence already written on every side of it.

It was as if every aspect of our life had already been predicted. My name, his title. My hardships, his trials. Our friends, our foes. His wanting to save me... My wanting to have him by my side. Oh, but wait. I haven't told you the best part yet, now have I?

The part where I have to **_not_** worry about him, the part where I have to impersonate a heartless bitch that thinks it's for his own good, that putting his life on the rope is a necessary evil, that it makes him grow as a person so that, one day, he eventually becomes the Hero he was always meant to be.

What a joke.

Yet, very much like a school play, we had to pretend like it all made sense. Like all this hilarious joke had a good reason to be. We had to pretend that Link was the Hero, and that I was the princess.

Like he wasn't in danger, and like I just had to wait. Like he would never die, and like I would never care.

Like I never loved him, and like even that cruel joke

Was yet another part of that single story in that one, dusty old book.


End file.
